


The Wheels on the Bus

by smithapple



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: AU, But they had to meet somehow, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Public Transportation, Steve and Bucky didn't grow up together, Tumblr Prompt, set before the war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-03-25 15:34:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3815695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithapple/pseuds/smithapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Filling a prompt I saw on Tumblr on awful-aus (which I apparently don't think are awful): "You sat by me on the bus and I couldn't help but notice that you're wearing two completely different shoes, are you...alright?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is already way longer than it has any right to be. With that in mind, it will SHOULD come in around 4 chapters. That is assuming these two idiots don't get away from me.
> 
> Dear god go easy on me, this is my first published fic.
> 
> I'm on tumblr as secret-blog-of-secrets if you are so inclined!

Bucky slumped against the bus window and sighed. His new job at the hardware store was more exhausting than he had anticipated. The Thompsons, who owned the shop, were wonderful people but getting up there in age. While that didn't stop them from having grand ideas for their little neighborhood store, it did prevent them from doing the heavy lifting required to make those ideas reality. Bucky spent the last week moving shelving units and, in his estimation, every single piece of stock in the place. That was on top of the painting and re-sanding of the floors from where the shelves and bins scraped. If you had asked him, he would swear even his eyelashes hurt at this point. Still, it was a job well done and Bucky smiled to himself when he remembered tiny Mrs. Thompson jumping up and down at the big reveal once all the work was done. For all his hard work, Bucky was given the weekend off. He had very serious plans that involved keeping very still and groaning pitifully anytime he was forced to move.

Once he was on the bus, it didn't take long before he was beginning to doze against the window. At the second stop, the bus driver broke with what Bucky was sure was a completely unreasonable amount of force. It jarred him back to full consciousness. The litany of swear words he was mumbling trailed off as he watched the newest passenger make his way down the aisle and flop down in the seat across from him. At first Bucky thought he was a little kid, as short and slight as he was. Through some surreptitious staring, Bucky saw that despite the other man's stature, he was probably closer to his own age. There was a tremendous amount of weariness on his face. It peaked Bucky's curiosity. He'd seen that worn out look plenty of times on the faces of people who were saddled with burdens that would break the will of anyone who didn't have a hell of a lot of fight in them. Bucky slouched back against the window and tipped his hat down to make it look like he was sleeping. Instead he spent the next five stops studying the profile of the man across the aisle and trying to figure out why the tiny guy was so fascinating. He was pale and looked so fragile Bucky was afraid he'd shatter if the bus driver hit a pothole too hard. Still, he had strong features and long eyelashes that should have made him look feminine, but didn't. In fact, it was striking just how not feminine he looked for a man pushing 5'3” and 100 pounds on a good day. Bucky found himself speculating about his neighbor across the aisle. Was he sick? Was he overworked? Was he underworked and starving as a result? More importantly, why was he so interested?!

The inevitable happened, and the bus driver hit a pot hole way too hard. The passengers were tossed around in their seats and some of the more vocal ones were letting the driver know exactly how they felt about his abilities. After a few choice words and giving the driver the stink eye in the rear view mirror, Bucky turned his attention back to the little man. He saw him struggling to take a breath.

“Buddy, this guy can't drive for shit, but it ain't that bad. Take a deep breath and calm down.”

His teasing was met with a look of sheer panic as the man fumbled through his coat pockets and launched something three rows ahead of them. It hit Bucky at that moment - he wasn't witnessing a nervous passenger, he was watching someone have a full blown asthma attack.

“Ah, hell,” Bucky mumbled as he crawled down the aisle searching under seats for what he now realized was the man's inhaler. Once he found it, he made his way back to the owner and stood over him as the man regained control of his breathing with a few deep, measured inhales of the medicine.

Bucky noticed several things watching the smaller man use his inhaler while looking gratefully up at him. One was a pair of big blue eyes. He also noticed that his blond hair looked very soft, the kind of hair you pet. Another was that he had a hell of a bruise on the cheek that had been facing away from Bucky. The last thing Bucky noticed was even having an asthma attack the guy was absolutely adorable.

As the blond regained his breath he smiled up at Bucky and said, “Thanks a lot, man. You really saved my life,” in a voice much deeper than Bucky had expected.

Bucky knew he was well and truly in trouble.

“Hey, your welcome. This guy drives like a nut. Your just lucky you inhaler wasn't flung out a window. You seem like a nice guy and all, but I'm not ready to jump out a window for you yet.”

Bucky was very proud at his charm and wit when the other man threw his head back to laugh. Then he began to panic and wonder if maybe it was too soon for this guy to be laughing that hard after an asthma attack. He handled the situation by shifting nervously on his feet and continuing to hover in the aisle.

“Steve Rogers,” the man introduced himself extending a hand for Bucky to shake. “I think you've filled your heroics quota for the day, have a seat,” moving back over the the window allowing Bucky to sit down next to him.

“Bucky Barnes. Nice to save your ass.”

Steve laughed again, “Where were you three days ago? Could have used some back up then.”

“I was wondering what happened to your face. Are you going to tell me I should have seen the other guy?”

“Nah,” Steve huffed. “I'm pretty sure the other guy didn't even break a sweat. But he was picking on a kid half his size.”

“Don't take this the wrong way, Stevie, but you aren't exactly terrifying. You had to know you were going to get knocked around pretty bad.” Bucky couldn't help smiling while he asked, “What were you thinking?” He liked this guy's chutzpa.

“I just don't like bullies.” Steve said it like a challenge, looking Bucky in the eye and sticking his chin out. Bucky found himself grinning in admiration which made Steve blush and turn to look out the window. “Oh. This is my stop coming up. Nice to meet you, Bucky!”

They shuffled so Steve could get past and was halfway to the front of the bus before Bucky managed to get out, “Yeah, you too, Steve.”

Still a few stops from his street, Bucky resumed his original slouch against the window and puzzled over Steve. He shook his head and laughed thinking about the tiny man jutting his jaw out in defiance. Who actually does that? “He had a lot of guts for a sickly little thing,” Bucky thought.

He was not nearly as amused by his next thought, “I could totally fall for the runt.”

Bucky got home, and headed straight to the bathroom to clean himself up from his workday. He looked in the mirror and was shocked to see just how disheveled he looked. Clothes dirty from moving around the last of the stock and oh great! He had paint in his hair. “Fantastic,” he grumbled as he stripped down to bathe.

Later, Bucky collapsed into bed and spent the better part of the weekend alternatively hoping that he never runs into Steve Rogers again and that he becomes a regular fixture on his commute home. Either way, he certainly wasn't going to be making sure he looked extra sharp on Monday just in case. It was still a relatively new job. Have to make a good impression, after all.

He was so sunk.


	2. Two

The weekend was a blur for Bucky. He spent his time sleeping and having his thoughts invaded by a tiny, blond, asthmatic punk. He was definitely a punk. Who the hell did he think he was walking around picking fights and throwing his inhaler all over the place? Bucky decided that if he saw Steve Rogers again he was going to give him a good telling off. Someone need to. 

The bell above the door at Thompson’s Hardware jingled as Bucky let himself into the shop. Mr. Thompson was opening up the till for the day and waved him into the back, “Irma brought doughnuts and coffee to celebrate the place lookin’ so nice. Better get back there and let her thank you.” 

No sooner had Mr. Thompson finished his sentence than Mrs. Thompson came out from behind the curtain separating the office and storeroom from the selling floor. “Oh don’t act like you’re not going to eat half those doughnuts yourself, Paul!” She stopped in her tracks when she saw Bucky. “My! Don’t you look handsome today! Are you meeting your young lady after work? Do we need to let you leave early today?” she giggled. 

Bucky blushed as the older woman fawned over him, “How many times do I gotta tell you? You’re the only girl for me, Mrs. T, and Mr. T already snatched you up. I’m doomed to be a bachelor.” 

He allowed Mrs. Thompson to continue to gush and pulled him into the back as her husband called out, “You want her, kid? She’s yours. But leave the doughnuts and the joe!” Bucky told him it was a deal and the three continued to joke with each other as they ate and got the store ready for the day. He had gotten lucky getting a position with the couple. They were sharp as tacks and a hoot to be around. 

It wasn’t until around 5 o’clock that time stood still. Bucky was a hard worker, not someone who normally watched the clock. Today, however, he found himself getting antsy. He told himself it had just been a long day and that he wasn’t anticipating whether or not he’d see a certain absolutely not adorable young man on the bus home. At 6 o’clock he was sprinting out the door calling his goodbyes over his shoulder. 

“I’ll be damned if it’s not a dame,” Mr. Thompson chuckled as he watched Bucky fly past the window towards the bus stop. 

For reasons he didn’t want to examine too closely, he was glad to see the seats he and Steve had shared were open. The reason was definitely not that he secretly believed it would somehow up his chances of seeing him again. He only wanted to see him so he could tell him to stop being an idiot and take better care of himself. If he happened to make him laugh again, well, that was just a bonus. 

As the bus was pulling up to the second stop, Bucky panicked. He picked up a newspaper that had fallen under the seat in front of him and held it up in front of his face. He waited until they were moving again to lower it and look around. He found that his ruse had worked. Steve had gotten on the bus, but hadn’t seen him. He also found that he was hugely disappointed and was a giant idiot. Fortunately, Steve was seated on the aisle just one row up. Bucky took a deep breath in an attempt to get over himself and said, “Hey, Steve!” 

Nothing. 

Bucky tried again, “Hiya, Stevie! Get into any more scrapes this weekend?”

Steve didn’t even flinch. 

Now annoyed, Bucky tried one more time, “Hey, Punk!” 

Not a goddamn thing. 

The woman across the aisle from Steve, however, did hear him. She turned around and gave him a look that implied he shouldn’t be allowed out in public before leaning over, gently placing a hand on Steve’s arm, and saying, “Excuse me, but I believe the young man behind me is trying to get your attention.” It seemed to take Steve a moment to register what she had said, but when he did he turned around and grinned. 

“Buck! I was wondering if I’d see you today!” He got up and came back to Bucky’s row as if he was expecting Bucky to just move over for him. Bucky, for his part, was too stunned by the genuine warmth of the greeting to do anything but comply. “Sorry I didn’t hear you. Battery on my hearing aid went today and I haven’t replaced it yet. You know, got batteries at home, can’t see wasting good money on another one just to get through one day.” 

Bucky continued to stare and nodded. “Wait. You were wondering about me?”

Steve laughed. Bucky was momentarily annoyed because, in this case, he hadn’t meant to be funny and found himself blushing when he realized what he’d asked. His annoyance dissipated when he saw the soft look in Steve’s eyes. “Most people would have asked about the hearing aids.”

“Well, I ain’t most people, punk...Wait! Hearing aids? How the hell did I miss that last week?”

“Probably because you were focusing on the whole not breathing thing I was doing. Diversionary tactics, you know.” Steve’s grin was somewhere between being the light of a thousand suns and shit eating. Bucky blamed another bad stop by the driver for the fact that his stomach was doing weird flops.

He managed to rally. “So. Asthma, can’t hear worth a damn, a habit of picking fights you got no business in, and you’re a mouthy bastard. It’s a wonder you’ve made it this far. Doesn’t anybody get on you about taking care of yourself?”

It was Steve’s turn to blush, “My mom does. And Peggy.” Before Bucky could even ask, Steve was out of his seat, “Almost missed my stop! See you tomorrow, Bucky!” 

“Who the hell is Peggy?” Bucky called out as the doors closed behind Steve, earning him severe looks from several of his fellow passengers. “Aw, mind your business,” he huffed. 

Steve Rogers had him thoroughly confused. His excitement in knowing he would see him tomorrow was dampened by this Peggy character. He could have sworn Steve was flirting for a moment there. He admitted he had thought about him. And then he turns around and name drops some broad? 

Bucky spent the rest of the night taking his bad mood out on his household goods as he made dinner, tried to read, and readied himself for bed. At 2 o’clock in the morning he said to his darkened room, “Eh, maybe it’s his sister or something,” before finally falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are reading this, thank you! It's a bit of fluffy nonsense to get back into writing. xxx


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is hopeless and Steve's a little shit and is totally onto Bucky. Bucky has no chance. The Thompsons are legends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the massive delay. Life and all that. But am back to writing and am determined to finish this this weekend! One more chapter to go. Then on to new stories!

Normally Bucky had no trouble sleeping, but he woke up in the morning feeling groggy and irritated. He was too tired to even bother pretending the reason for his restlessness was anything other than the mysterious Peggy. He slumped against the wall of his shower and tried to talk himself out of his ridiculous infatuation with a squirt of a guy he barely knew. It didn’t work. There was no way he was getting through this day without a record setting amount of coffee.

He got to the shop and forced himself to be upbeat for the sake of the Thompsons. No matter how little sleep he got, the kindly couple didn’t deserve to feel his wrath. He took it out on some boxes that need to be broken down from a delivery. Mrs. Thompson came into the back just as Bucky was stabbing at some particularly stubborn packing tape with more aggression than was strictly necessary. Knowing something was up, she interrupted his muttering, “Things not go well with your young lady last night, dear?”

Bucky jumped at the intrusion. “Sorry, Mrs. Thompson...was kinda lost in my own head.” He paused, wanting badly to talk to someone about Steve, but hesitant to unload on the older woman. Nothing he’d seen in either of the Thompsons would indicate they would have a problem with Bucky being gay, but it seemed early in his tenure to dump his woeful love life on her. Instead, he went with an idea that had just occurred to him, “Do you know if the drug store across the street sells hearing aid batteries?”

“And why would you think I’d know a thing like that, young man?”

“Oh gosh, no! I didn’t mean that you’d know because you deaf or anything! Not that there’s anything wrong with that...I just..there’s a...person...I…” Bucky was relieved when he finally looked up to see Mrs. Thompson grinning at him, enjoying his discomfort. “You know, you seem so sweet.”

That got a good laugh from his boss. “You’ve been here long enough to know the truth, Bucky. Let’s make Paul watch the shop and we’ll go next store to get some coffee. You can tell me all about whatever’s got a bee in your bonnet and then you’ll find out how not sweet I can be.” She winked and patted his arm as she passed. Bucky was suddenly very glad she was on his side.

They sat at the counter in the diner next door to the hardware store. Bucky tried not to smile as the older woman’s feet dangled from the high stool. She had insisted on sitting there because “that’s where the action is”, and he was quickly learning she was not a woman to test. Once the coffee arrived, she turned and nodded at him, a silent prompt to get on with things.

Bucky didn’t know exactly how to start. There weren’t that many people in the diner, so he wasn’t overly worried about being overheard. “Um, what I’m going to tell you, well, I hope it doesn’t change your opinion about me. I really like working for you and Mr. Thompson and would hate to jeopardize that. But you’ve really been like a mom to me these last few months, and I could really use an ear to bend…” he trailed off, second guessing his decision to come out to her.

Mrs. Thompson knew better than interrupt. She gave Bucky the time he needed, placing a comforting hand on his.

He swallowed hard and continued, “The thing is, it’s not a dame….er, girl. It’s this guy I met.”

The squeeze on his hand made him look up. “Bucky, do you have any idea how long Paul and I have been in this neighborhood? We’ve seen it all at this point. You’re going to have to do a hell of a lot better than that for us to kick you to the curb. Start rooting for the Yankees, and that’s a different story.”

“Dodgers for life, ma’am,” Bucky smiled before giving up any form of decorum and pulling her into a giant hug. Relief flooded over him and he took a deep breath before launching into his story of the blond on the bus.

It was an hour later when one of the neighborhood kids came into the diner to find them. “Heya Mrs. Thompson. Mr. Thompson said if you and Bucky don’t get back to the shop soon, he’s docking both your pay and’s gonna start chasin’ after Mrs. Wycott down at the bakery.”

“Good. She can feed him,” Mrs. Thompson said as Bucky helped her off her stool. “Run and get those hearing aid batteries before you come back, Bucky. It might not be typical like flowers, but this isn’t typical courting.” He kissed her on the cheek before dashing across the street.

Being able to talk to someone made Bucky feel lighter. He still had no idea who Peggy was, or if Steve even liked guys, but talking to Mrs. Thompson made him feel like maybe he had a chance. The day got busy and flew by. At 6 o’clock, he hugged Mrs. Thompson one more time, and tried to dodge her fussing over his hair. Patting the batteries in his pocket, Bucky felt good heading towards the bus.

It wasn’t long into the ride before his nerves took over. Bucky counted down the stops to Steve’s and the doubt crept back. He was looking down at the battery packet in his hand and contemplating faking being asleep before Steve got on when he heard a voice. “Whatcha got there, Buck?”

Bucky looked up in shock at Steve. Great, the punk got on a stop early, he thought while he tried to gather some of his usual bravado. “Well, I was at the store today and figured you could use these. Don’t want ya getting run down in the street ‘cause you can’t hear a damned horn blaring at you.” He tossed the packet into Steve’s lap as he sat.

“I don’t need these! I told you a have some at home,” Steve protested.

“I know, I know. Keep these in your jacket or something for emergencies. You’re not as much fun when you can’t hear right. Just tryin’ to look out for you. Punk.”

“I don’t need you looking after me. I can handle myself.”

“Boy, don’t I know it. Maybe I just want to.” The jaw was stuck out again, and Bucky knew he was on thin ice. He decided a change of topic was needed, and before he could stop himself asked, “So who’s Peggy?”

Steve narrowed his eyes at him. “Why?”

Bucky threw his hands up, “Just wondering if she was your girl. No need to get all defensive. Thought maybe we could double date or something.” He had no idea why he lied, he blamed panic.

“I meant why do you want to look out for me.”

Something about the glint in Steve’s eyes was deliberately antagonizing. Jesus, Bucky thought, this guy really is a punk. If he doesn’t watch his damn attitude it’s a toss up between punching him myself or kissing him. “Because you don’t have a lick of common sense, but do have the attitude problem of someone twice your size. If you mouth off to the wrong guy and get your ass kicked, my bus ride gets boring again while you recuperate.”

Bucky’s answer seemed to the trick. The smile that made his knees weak was back. “So your motivation is purely selfish? You think I’m here to entertain you or something?” Mischievous was the word Bucky was searching for to describe the look Steve was giving him, but he was too busy hoping he wasn’t blushing to light upon it.

The bus driver performed another one of his now legendary sudden breaks, and Steve got up. “My stop’s next. Thanks for the batteries. Even if you are a jerk for getting them in the first place.” He reached out and gave Bucky’s shoulder a squeeze, and Bucky knew he was definitely blushing this time. A look of surprise flitted across Steve’s face, but was replaced with one Bucky had not seen before. It looked, well, it looked dangerous in a way that went straight to his groin. “By the way, Peggy’s not my girlfriend,” Steve said before he stepped into the aisle.

“Okay,” was all Bucky managed with a nod.

Steve leaned over and whispered close to Bucky’s ear, “Honestly, girls aren’t really my thing.” He took a long look at Bucky, who was now bright red and bug eyed in shock. With another shoulder squeeze and a deep (and to Bucky’s ears, filthy) chuckle, Steve headed up to the front of the bus as it pulled up to his stop. Bucky watched Steve get off the bus and turn to watch it leave. Right before they pulled away, Steve waved and winked.

Bucky let out a low whistle and spent the next few stops trying to think of anything but the fact that the smaller man very much had the upper hand in whatever was happening between them.

 

 


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleep deprived Bucky is a mess. Steve is a sucker for sleepy Bucky. The Thompsons are still legends. Steve said the thing, but the context is very different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I genuinely thought I wouldn't finish this until tomorrow, but I was on a roll. I may end up doing more with this story later. Having Steve meet the Thompsons and Bucky meet Peggy is awfully tempting. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

Bucky walked from the bus in a daze. If you asked him later, he’d say he didn’t even remember getting home. He got a very long, very cold shower while the words Honestly, girls aren’t really my thing swirled around his head. At some point he ate, at some point he got into bed. He then spent the next 7 hours staring at the ceiling. Did Steve know how he felt? Was he interested? Had Bucky spent too much time around paint fumes and was hallucinating? What was he going to wear tomorrow? Will he ever sleep again? Is it actually possible he had a shot with Steve?! It wasn’t a good night for Bucky.

The next day was bright and cool. Bucky was giddy with possibility. During his sleepless night, he had come to the conclusion that Steve had to know he was interested - the way he had blushed when Steve grabbed his shoulder was an embarrassing give away. He hadn’t run off, or told him there was something wrong with him. He said, Honestly, girls aren’t really my thing. The idea that maybe, just maybe, Steve was interested too was driving him to distraction. The lack of sleep the last few nights had him feeling raw, and the anticipation of seeing Steve after work was making his stomach churn. He could be completely wrong about everything. Bucky dressed in a daze and headed to the hardware store.

Mr. Thompson was just unlocking the door as Bucky approached. “The wife told me about your little chat yesterday.” Bucky froze, afraid Mr. Thompson may not be as understanding as his wife gave him credit for. “Hearing aid batteries, really? I know this fella of yours can’t hear worth a damn, but I really thought you were a little more suave than that, kid.”

Bucky gave an amazed laugh, “Yeah, well your wife said it made me seem considerate.”

“Did she, now? Ask her about the time I got her a new blender for her birthday after her’s had broke. Considerate, hmph.”

Despite his worry that maybe the batteries were the wrong move, Bucky was looking forward to hearing Mrs. Thompson’s side of the blender story. He had a feeling he was going to learn a few new words from the formidable woman. Tiny and formidable. Can’t decide if she and Steve need to meet or be kept miles apart from each other, he caught himself thinking. He mentally chastised himself for even considering things with Steve might advance to the point of introducing them to each other. He needed to get his head on straight if he was going to make it through the day.

Once the shop was open for business, things picked up quickly. It was obviously going to be a busy day. Bucky and Mr. Thompson were kept running until Mrs. Thompson came in a few hours later. She took one look at Bucky and knew something was going on with him. “Did you sleep at all, James?”

“Aw, Mrs. T, only my ma called me James,” he whined.

“Well, if you’re not taking care of yourself someone has to be on your case! You look a mess. What will Steve think?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at him for a moment before she broke into laughter. Bucky stared open mouthed, unable to believe she threw that at him.

“Quit pickin’ on the boy,” Mr. Thompson called from down an aisle. “He’s enough of a mess as is today without you givin’ him a hard time.”

“I’m not a mess,” Bucky mumbled as he immediately dropped someone’s change all over the counter.

After the last customer in the line was through, Bucky was able to take a break. He went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face before looking at himself in the mirror. “Okay, I am a bit of a mess,” he admitted when he saw the dark circles under his eyes. He ran his hand over his hair a few times before quickly giving up. Experience told him that was a losing fight. For a moment he considered asking the Thompsons if he could leave early. Seeing Steve today suddenly seemed like a terrible idea. Shoring himself up, he headed back to work figuring he’d see how the business was before he asked his employers about taking off before the end of the day.

Bucky spent a lot of the rest of his shift sighing deeply and dramatically. Naturally, the one time he wanted to go home early the day stayed busy. As much as he was beginning to dread seeing Steve, he would never leave the Thompsons in a lurch. Every time he had a second to himself, his thoughts drifted back to Steve. He could tell not sleeping as making him delirious. The start of the day had him obsessively going over every possible scenario for when they next saw each other. As the day progressed, Bucky became less concerned with whether or not Steve was interested in him. Instead, he found himself thinking things like, He’s so tiny and gorgeous and if I told him that he’d probably punch me in the kneecap and then doubling over giggling at his own absurdity. He was definitely, without a doubt, a mess.

When closing time came around, he was physically ushered out of the shop by Mr. Thompson who told him he’d had enough of Bucky’s sleep induced clumsiness and Steve induced mooning. “Don’t come back tomorrow unless you’ve either gotten some sleep or gotten kissed. It’s bad enough I have to deal with Irma being ridiculous day in and day out. I need you to snap out of it and balance her out.”

Laughing harder than he normally would, Bucky managed to dare Mr. Thompson to say that in front of Mrs. Thompson. “You think I have a death wish kid. I only said it front of you because you’re too loopy today to remember it. Now get out of here and get your guy. Or at least some rest.”

Bucky waved over his head at him as he headed off to the bus stop. He slumped against a pole as he waited for the bus to come. He chuckled at the thought that this time he may actually be asleep by the time Steve gets on.

When the bus did pull up and Bucky got on, he groaned at how hot it was inside. It had been one of those days that was just cool enough to require a jacket, but not quite requiring the heater to be on. The bus driver seemed to disagree and had the heat cranked. Bucky shrugged out of the light jacket he was wearing and held it on his lap, fighting the urge to ball it up and use it as a pillow against the window. Despite his best effort, his head fell back against the seat and his eyes closed. Guess I won’t be seeing Stevie today after all, he thought. He giggled as he tried to convince himself he was just resting his eyes.

Thanks to the bus driver’s habit of breaking like he had run into a wall, Bucky didn’t fall asleep before Steve’s stop. He found himself grateful that he was truly too tired to care how awkward he should feel. He grinned sleepily at Steve as he boarded the bus and headed over to what had become his usual seat. “What’s gotten into you?” Steve asked, his eyebrows knitted.

“Nuthin’. Just a long day,” Bucky said, noticing his voice was getting slurred with his exhaustion. He managed another grin to prove he was fine.

Steve seemed unconvinced. He gave Bucky a worried look. When he spoke again, he actually looked nervous. Or maybe it was concerned. Bucky was in no state to differentiate. “Buck. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Aw, Stevie. I’m good. S’good. You don’t have to worry about me. You’re too cute to look all worried.” The words were out of Bucky’s mouth before he had any chance of catching them. He stared at Steve, trying to come up with a way to back peddle.

“Cute, huh? And here I was going for devastatingly handsome this whole time.” Steve brushed his hair out of his eyes and looked up at Bucky through, frankly ridiculous, eyelashes. “Stop grinning at me like a dope. I’m not cute,” he added, with a weak attempt at looking angry.

Bucky dissolved into laughter, “Not only are you cute, you’re a punk. You’re an adorable punk.” He turned his body towards Steve, leaning heavy on the back of the seat. On one hand, he couldn’t believe the stuff he was saying, on the other, he was too tired to care. “Why you so worried about me, anyway? Can’t a guy just be a little tired?”

The corners of Steve’s mouth twitched up as he tried not to smile. He had gotten used to Bucky being full of swagger and big talk. Sleepy, he was soft and absurd. “Why am I worried about you? You’re talkin’ like you’ve got marbles in your mouth, you look like you haven’t slept in a week, and you’re wearing two completely different shoes. I’d think you were on a hell of a bender, except you don’t smell like a distillery.”

“Oh yeah, what do I smell like, Stevie,” Bucky began in what he was sure was a very flirtatious tone. It was a second later that the rest of what Steve said caught up to him. “Wait, what the…” he looked down and groaned. “How did I? This is all your fault!”

“How is the fact you can’t dress yourself my fault?!” Steve shot back.

“I haven’t been sleeping and it’s entirely because of you and your,” Bucky trailed off and waved a hand at Steve in an attempt to indicate his general being. Steve stared at him with wide eyes as a smile crept over his face.

“That’s alright, Buck. I’m kinda nuts about you, too,” he said softly. Bucky started when Steve’s hand snuck under the coat on his lap and found his. “Why don’t you close your eyes for a few minutes and I’ll wake you up at my stop?”

Bucky was too shocked and tired to argue. He leaned back against the seat back and closed his eyes, grinning.

“You’re still smiling like a dope.”

“Shaddup and let me sleep. Want to ask you out proper when I wake up.” Steve gave Bucky’s hand a soft squeeze in reply.

It seemed to not be longer than a few seconds before Steve was trying to rouse Bucky. “Buck, my stops coming up, better wake up so you don’t miss yours.”

One eye opened and the grin returned to Bucky’s face, “How about I take you to the movies Friday night?”

“Fine. But I’m taking you. I’m not some dame who,”

Bucky cut him off, “Wouldn’t have asked you if you were.”

“You gonna tell me which stop is yours or not?” Steve said, fighting off a smile. How someone could be half asleep and still be charming was beyond him.

“I’m the last stop. You should stay on with me and make sure I don’t fall back to sleep and miss it.”

“Are you always this much of a sap when you’re tired? I’m sure the bus driver isn’t going to leave you on the bus at the last stop. Let him wake your sorry ass up.”

“Then you should stay on with me and keep holding my hand.” Bucky knew Steve was onto him. He was plenty awake now and laying it on thick.

Steve laughed and shook his head at him, “Fine. I’m a sucker for a pretty face, so I’ll stay on.” He gave Bucky’s hand a squeeze and settled back in his seat. “You’re a jerk, but I’m with you ‘til the end of the line.”  



End file.
